The Lonesome Ones
by Ananke
Summary: Trance and Tyr find that not all diplomatic missions are quite...diplomatic.


The Lonesome Ones  
*  
"And be on guard against the good and the just! They would fain crucify those who devise their own virtue -- they hate the lonesome ones."   
-Friedrich Nietzsche  
*  
"It's a simple three day mission..."  
  
"I would prefer to go alone."   
  
"A diplomatic mission, Tyr. Talking, shaking hands, lots of shaking hands. You do not want to go alone." Pausing in her strides towards the Maru, Beka Valentine surveyed her Nietzschean companion.  
  
He considered. "I am fully capable of shaking hands. Ineffective manner of communications, yes, but one I can manage...for the sake of the...Commonwealth."  
  
"Gets less bitter every time you push it out, eh, Tyr?" Grinning, Captain Valentine thrust a handful of files into his hands, stepping back from the door of her little ship. "You just follow those instructions and let Purple do the hand-shaking and we should be fine."  
  
"Tell me." Stopping halfway through the hatch, he waved the pads, grimacing lightly. "Why you, Captain Valentine, are not leading this foray?"  
  
"I have a dinner date with a fellow Captain, my boy." She called as she retreated, smiling mischeviously.  
  
"A dinner date? With the good Captain Hunt? Rebeka?"   
  
"Tyr. Tyr..." Scrambling around a corner, Trance Gemini claimed attention, and he stepped into the ragtag Maru, allowing the door to shut behind him. "I have our...what is it?"  
  
"Itinerary." He supplied, stepping gingerly through a mass of wires into the command area.  
  
"Yes, that." 'Purple' moved forward, smiling in almost painful delight at the help. He sighed inwardly, cocking a brow to indicate patient interest. "We have to report to Daragus IV to meet with the settlers, they have supplies we need and show a strong interest in signing up for the Commonwealth. The Daraguns are a Nietzschean offshoot race, untraditional..."  
  
"Nietzschean offshoot race?" He caught her arm, halting her rambling report.  
  
"Oh, they separated from the main culture years and years before the fall itself. At the time they were a very small party, no attention was really given to them, but now they're stronger and want to reintegrate into outer-space civilization..."  
  
"Gemini." He clapped a hand over her mouth, bending to seek her eyes out. "How untraditional?"  
  
"Well." She slid into the co-pilots seat, tail curling around to rest by his foot. "They choose a lot of the Nietzschean habits-bond pairing, for one-but they specifically condemn any official connection to the main culture. When Daragus was colonized-several decades before the Commonwealth fell-they were refugees, sort of, the outcasts of dominant Nietzschean prides. The maimed and dumb and..."  
  
"I understand, inferiors." He interrupted. "So they dislike contact with other, superior Nietzschean representives. Why am I to lead this mission? They will not listen to anything I have to say...Captain Valentine!" Slamming a finger down on the intraship communication channel, he stared out into space.  
  
"Mr. Anasazi." It was Dylan Hunt's voice that broke through, smoothly unruffled. "We have Daragun assurances that you will be met and treated with the inarguable respect owed a Commonwealth representitive. Trance will be insurance to that. Your duties will not, however, be wholly diplomatic, as the information Beka left with you will show. I can't tell you to expect a smooth road, but you are one of the best people for this. Trance is the other. Mission begun, Maru, and get going."  
  
"At times, I despise that man." Lifting the pads again, Anasazi stared with digust at the closed com channel.  
  
"He beats you at basketball, that can be very, very bothersome." Nodding, the odd little purple creature leaned forward, hands pressing together in excitement. "I can tell you what the pads say, I managed to sneak a..."  
  
"You infilitrated classified mission records before they were cleared?"  
  
"I didn't see any harm." Her lips curled in defense. "Who was I going to tell, the droids?"  
  
"I see your point." Embarrassingly insufficient crew, embarrassingly fetal Commonwealth...embarrassingly laughable cause. He nodded. "Continue."  
  
"We're supposed to spy."  
  
Clearly, he thought, within her range of satisfying mission incentives.  
  
"See, the Daraguns say they want to enlist in the Commonwealth cause, but they...well, they don't like your people, their ancestors, very much at all. Dylan thinks they may be trying to get a grip on our munitions and tactical information to fund strikes against Nietzschean prides."  
  
"Of course." He glanced away from the console. "And as a good soldier of Commonwealth, Captain Hunt desires not only to refuse this terrorist cell entry into civilization, but also to root the entire sore out and, I presume, create peace."  
  
"He really is a nice man, Tyr, and with really, really nice intentions."  
  
"Of course." The second agreement was brief, unhumorous. "We will see if he is as successful as his intentions."  
*  
"We are honored." Tyr Anasazi began his introductory comments smoothly, gazing down unwaveringly at the nervously twitching Daragun before him. "My wife and I are both honored with your welcome and interest in our cause."  
  
"Wi..." Trance's tail shot upwards from somewhere behind, slapping him lightly on the shoulder in pure surprise, even as her voice rose to a squeak.  
  
"Our accomodations are ready, I trust?" Grasping her hand in warning, he kept his tones even. "Trance is tired from the journey and we would benefit from privacy."  
  
"Of...course." The Daragun emissary glanced to and fro between them, clearly disquieted. "In purely diplomatic interest, I must ask...this creature is your bond-mate? We assumed that you followed the more traditional customs..."  
  
"Assumptions breed chaos. Chaos breeds..." Tones soft, Anasazi raised his head impartially. "Our accomodations?"  
*  
"*That* was not diplomacy, Tyr." Crossing her arms and tip-toeing to meet her companions gaze, Trance Gemini shook her head empatically. "You're not supposed to threaten the emissary on the first meeting, and you're not supposed to claim fellow officers as mates on diplomatic missions, and..."  
  
"Gemini!" Barely keeping the frustrated outburst to a suitable roar, the older man grasped her arms and shook lightly. "It was he who assumed first, and an assumption needing monitoring, I might add. If they believed my adherence to tradition so strong, they were plotting ways to fragment my strengths within that tradition. I have thrown them off, and assured your complete access into the Nietzschean culture, however it remains here. As a mere alien interloper, you would have been given even less opportunity for research than I. As a bond-mate to a Nietzschean, you hold the rights and responsibilities within such a union."  
  
"You hurt my hand." Tones still faintly resentful, she stepped away, tail swinging in agitation. "And now they'll think you're a big wife bullier and I'll be expected to obey you and..."  
  
The girl would kill him, absolutely kill him. Gripping her upper arms firmly, her companion forced a pause in the pacing. "I overestimated my grip, unfortunately. It will heal. You will be expected to do nothing. Nietzschean women are known for their...rebellion. A bruise more or less would not dissuade them from their own interests. Your only surbordination will be as junior mission crewman. I have...protected you. Captain Hunt clearly didn't consider such aspects. No doubt he was preoccupied with other matters, and other people."  
  
"That was..." Eyes widening, Trance smiled widely. "You're jealous, jealous over Beka...thats why you're in such a mean mood."  
  
"A Nietzschean mood, not exclusively a 'mean' mood. And I am *not* jealous." He added for posterity, bending to rummage through their combined ruck sack. "Merely tired of hurtling through space on an empty ship of time-frozen ideals commanded by a tireless optimist with no grasp whatsoever of the harsher realities of the present age..."  
  
"And Beka falls for that, huh?"  
  
"You." He jabbed a finger in her direction. "Are a silly, remarkably unhelpful little fool."  
  
"You married me." Sticking her tongue out, the alien ducked back through the hut door.  
  
"Trance. Trance, where exactly is it you intend to go now?" Pushing outside as well, he watched her departure with forboding. "If you would wait and allow me to show you around..."  
  
"Oh, no, I'm fine. I can kick, remember? Besides, you said I had protection now..." Voice fading, she disappeared over the forested horizon.  
  
"Not from yourself, girl." He muttered, turning back to unload the remaining supplies.  
*  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
